Worth Something To Someone
by metric-electric
Summary: Draco had been awefully cruel to Hermione one day at the library. Now Hermione sinks deeper and deeper into depression and hurts herself. When Draco is the only one to notice, he is also the only one she can turn to. DHr.


Worthless

Chapter One: Confrontation

Written on June 18th, 2006

Hermione Granger sat in the library, studying a rather large book for her potions class while scribbling down vivid notes as she read. She squinted her deep brown eyes, examining the tiny letters and words. '_For such a big book, you'd think the print would be proportioned properly too.'_ She thought as she continued reading.

The door to the library opened randomly, revealing three Slytherin boys. Obnoxiously they took turns punching each other and one stupidly knocked into a bookshelf, causing it to quake and have several books fall from it. Hermione shook her head. Boys. As she further studied them, she realized exactly whom she was staring at. It was Draco Malfoy and his band of idiots, Crabbe and Goyle.

'_Lovely,'_ She thought. '_Just who I wanted to see at this very moment.'_ As best as she could, she tried to ignore the loud distractions and peered back down to the book she was supposed to be paying attention to.

Draco laughed. Hermione only glanced up quickly before taking her large book and shoving it in front of her face, the bottom edge of the book resting on the table she was sitting at.

"You should have seen his face." The Slytherin Quidditch Seeker chuckled. "After I shoved him into that stupid girl he's fawning over she got so mad she slapped him! He ran straight to his dumb Gryffindor room and cried."

"Wow, Draco, you sure don't show any mercy." Crabbe declared.

"Dumb second years." Goyle interjected.

Draco laughed again. That's when he saw the Gryffindor Head girl out of the corner of his eye and smirked evilly.

"Well, what have we here." Draco said with a sneer as he took the book from Hermione's hands.

'_Damn.' _She grimaced. _'He found me.'_

"Granger. Fancy seeing you here in the library." He chuckled. "What are you reading?" He looked at the cover of the book. When he wasn't satisfied he tossed it behind him, almost hitting Crabbe in the face before he dodged it. "Oh well, doesn't matter."

"You can leave now." She said heatedly, and got up from her seat, ready to go pick up her book. Draco blocked her from getting it by stepping in front of her. Every time she switched sides, he would too. "Do you mind? I have studying to do."

"Not so fast, Granger." He told her. "Don't you have something to tell me?"

"I have nothing to tell you, actually." She pushed him out of the way and picked up her abandoned textbook.

"Oh, trust me. You do." He stepped forward, and she took one step back.

Crabbe and Goyle watched from a distance, eager to find out how the whole situation will end up.

"Oh? Well, then. What exactly do I have to tell you?" She scoffed.

"That I am Draco Malfoy, Slytherin King. The best at everything. Brave, and handsome and brilliant and great at Quidditch. So much better than stupid Potter, and everyone is jealous, including you." He smirked and stepped forward again. She stepped backwards.

"Okay, how about this. You are Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Dumbass. The worst at everything, except being an idiot. A coward, and unfortunate looking and stupid and horrid at Quidditch. Doesn't even compare to Potter, and no one is jealous, especially me."

Draco frowned. _'Impertinent wench.'_ He thought, not for the first time since he's known her.

He took another step forward. She took another back. "What was that Granger?"

"Would you like me to say it again?"

"Do it." He took another step, but this time it was bigger. He was right in front of her. "See what happens."

Her eyes got bigger as he got closer and she stepped backwards, but there was nowhere left to go. She was trapped. Trapped between a wall, and Draco Malfoy. _'Oh, great. I would so much rather be dead.'_

Crabbe and Goyle shifted in their positions, both getting a little bit nervous. This situation might be getting out of hand, even for Draco.

He was so close to her now, their bodies were touching. He rested his arms on either side of her head, her thick, brown wavy hair tangling around her. He smirked. She gulped.

"What do you want from me, Malfoy?" She asked quietly. Her hands rested against his chest, slightly pushing him away and ready to push harder if he didn't back off soon.

He leaned forward, breathing into her ear. Hermione's knees almost gave in at the heat from his breath. It made her insides tingle and sent shockwaves through her nerves. He whispered hotly and huskily, "I want what any man wants."

Hermione's eyes became huge saucers. He pulled away from her ear, his smirk still intact, and leaned forward, just centimeters away from her lips, and stopped. He chuckled very lightly.

For fear of speaking, just in case if she spoke their lips touched, she pushed him back far enough to say something. "You need to stop, right now." She told him, her teeth clenched.

"Why, Granger? Getting too hot for you?" His hand reached down and began stroking the inside of her thigh. She gasped. He smirked wider, showing a tiny bit of teeth.

"Get off me, Malfoy!" She pushed him, but was struggling to get free of his strong hold on her. His hand withdrew to hold the front of her robes around her neck. "I said, get off!"

He frowned. "Psh, who would want a stupid Mudblood like you, anyway? You're _worthless_." He said with malice. He let go of his hold on her, very roughly, and stalked off, Crabbe and Goyle following hurriedly behind.

Hermione let out the breath she had been holding in the minute he had touched her at her thigh. She sunk down to the floor, against the wall, and brought her knees up to her chest. She cradled her head with her hands and began weeping.

After what seemed like a really long time, Hermione Granger got up from the floor, dusting off her robes, and walked out of the library. She said nothing to no one and only peered down at the floor until she got to her bedroom in the Gryffindor House.

She sat on her bed, thinking.

'_You're worthless.'_

She clenched her fists in her bedsheets. Why was she even listening to what _he_ said, anyway? He was Draco Malfoy. He tortured people for a _living_. Why should she get all upset over nothing? Maybe because it wasn't nothing. He had just verbally and sexually harassed her. Not only that, but he called her a Mudblood again, and called her worthless.

_Worthless. _

Was she really worthless? Harry and Ronald wouldn't think so. But they shouldn't count. They're comrades. _Friends._ They're _supposed_ to say that you're great and perfect and wonderful.

Just because they say it, doesn't mean it's true.

Sure, she studied often, and was intelligent and smart. But for all of that, she couldn't do much else. She couldn't fly, or sing, or paint, or _please a man_.

And she was a _Mudblood_. Surely she couldn't be as great as someone as true to their heritage, like Ronald. Or _Malfoy_.

She _was_ worthless, wasn't she?

Her eyes grew weary, and she began crying again. She didn't want to cry, because she felt weak, but she couldn't help it. Nothing else seemed to help.

But maybe she could try something else.

She slid off her bed, and reached below it, taking out a small box. She laid it on her bed and opened it. Inside was nail filers, nail polish, nail clippers, and a pair of shining, sharp scissors.

Hermione remembered why she had the box in the first place. It was a gift from Ginny a few years back. She remembered Ginny had said that to stand out and be a bit girlier, she could try wearing cute nail polish and maybe take care of her nails more nicely. Hermione, of course, had basically ignored the gift, thinking that she had more important things to do than paint her nails. She did, though, thank Ginny for being so kind for buying her a random gift for no real, special occasion.

She picked up the pair of small scissors, grazing her finger along the edge of one of the blades. Sitting on her bed again, she shoved the sleeve on her left arm up, and applied pressure to her naked wrist with the sharp edge of the scissors.

Almost immediately blood beaded at her flesh. Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, and this time, slowly, she slid the blade across her wrist. Blood gathered at the wound and darkened.

Scaring herself, Hermione quickly put the scissors back in the box and shoved it back under her bed. She wiped away the fresh blood from her wrist and pushed her sleeve back down her arm.

'_What was I thinking?'_ She thought, and ran downstairs, ready to eat dinner with her friends.


End file.
